


Death Doesn’t Discriminate

by 21stCenturyMargaret



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black Widow: Deadly Origin, Minor Injuries, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov-centric, Pre-Canon, Pre-Iron Man 2, Red Room (Marvel), Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:59:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29573547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/21stCenturyMargaret/pseuds/21stCenturyMargaret
Summary: Natasha’s backstory. From the Red Room to S.H.I.E.L.D.Chapter Index:1. Madame B.2. Dreykov’s Daughter3. A New NameTitle from the ‘Hamilton’ song ‘Wait For It’.
Kudos: 1





	1. Madame B.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This chapter takes place in 1988. Most of it would be similar to Dottie’s childhood from episode 01x05 of Agent Carter. 
> 
> Also, I’m really hoping that they’ll give the comic book powers to the MCU Monica Rambeau, because I need her to be astronomically powerful.
> 
> \- Mags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalia Romanova, daughter of Ivan Romanov.
> 
> Content Warning: Abuse, Handcuffs.

Two men with rigidly straight backs marched into the stoic room. One’s pale hand was cruelly shoving a timid child over by the shoulders. The child, an orphan to the late Ivan Romanov and his wife, was urged forward on the creaking wooden floors. The room was wide and dimly lit by a dignified chandelier.

A woman with cream skin and evergreen eyes leaned against the deep brown wooden banister. A stern face with a stiff back, but amused eyes. She smoothly asked "what is her name?"

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova" the gruff voice of the man responded, "4 years old."

Natalia nervously glanced at the intimidating woman. "You’ll address me as Madame B." the woman announced. After a moment’s silence, she finished "and you’ll reply `yes’."

"Yes" whispered Natalia. Madame B. steadily strode over and her hand stole the place of the man’s. 

That night; she flinched as Madame B. monotonously fastened the chilling handcuffs to her wrist. It felt like a motion that must be familiar and practiced to her. Madame B flashed her a swift glare, that made Natalia’s back go stiff. 

Once Madame B. had strode away. She placed her other arm strictly by her side, her body straight as a pencil. Natalia slammed her eyes shut to quickly stop the tears from flowing. Unsuccessful, a few salty droplets slid down her face. Eyes fixed on the rough ceiling. Sombrely remembering her warm and dedicated parents. She remained in this rigid position the rest of the night.

She awakened to the crinkle of Madame B. detaching the handcuffs from the dignified metal bed posts. She waited till her wrist is released before rising to a sitting position on the sterile white bed sheets. Madame B.‘s footsteps muffled as they faded.

She and all the other little girls are uniformed and trooped into a bland, yet childish classroom. Hands positioned firmly on the clean, but used wooden desks. Eyes Sharp. The terror sunk into her as the images flashed across the screen. A gorgeous girl with short obsidian hair’s words are played. 

“She’ll never find me here,” she pleaded, and than she realizes every little girl is also emptily chanting, “and if you let me stay, I’ll keep house for you. I’ll wash and sweep and sew and cook!”

Some days she diligently practiced under Madame B.’s vision. Other’s they were lined up on the deep brown wooden floor boards. Watching stone-faced as two other girls fought. Peering over the body as it efficiently flopped to the ground after a few moments hesitation from the children.

She glanced up at the other girls as she slouches into the creaky metal bed frame. Her hair a fire-like red, in two neat braids. She’s wore a completely unpersonalized white nightgown. No despair-filled eyes return this stare, only solemn heads turned.

She didn’t wince when Madame B. latched the the emotionless handcuff to her damaged wrist. She gazed straight up, and didn’t relieve a tear falling.

It seems that every little girl that sobbed was dragged into the hallway. Returned with the stuffy nose and swollen cheeks of crying, but a tearless face. 

And marks that signalled the iron grip of Madame B.‘s fingernails around their wrist and arms.


	2. Dreykov’s Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was then that she realized how little she meant to them.
> 
> Content Warning: Guns, Explosions, Death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So this takes place in 2002, after her graduation. It’s my imagination of what Loki was talking about.
> 
> My dad asked me something and so I asked him what he said. Apparently I was being rude because now I’m "gonna help and have a good attitude."
> 
> \- Mags

The iron grey wheels of shiny metal squeaked as they rolled down the hall. Two little girls in navy blue vests and respectable white shirts solemnly gazed as she was wheeled away. 

She stiffly gulped as her eyes dashed around the ominous dark hallway. They arrived in a sterile white room. The last thing she saw was the glistening needle as she was sedated.

When she stirred awake, she was in the same unloving metal bed she’d slept in since she was four. Only Madame B. stood above her. 

"I have no place in the world." Natalia grimaced.

"No you don’t." Madame B. agreed, "Follow me." She stalked away.

They entered another drab brown room, and in it stood a unwavering man. "Natalia, this is General Dreykov, the man who recruited you." Madame B. announced.

"I’ll talk for myself." Dreykov interrupted in his gruff voice."You’ll be sent on a mission, with my daughter."

"Viktoriya Mikhailovna" a tall woman with chocolate brown hair introduced herself.

"Natalia Alianovna" Natalia replied.

"Yes, I know."

Natalia and Viktoriya were three days in, and strolling down a sanitary white hallway. Guns in hand. Both were wearing secure black catsuits. Once the bomb starting ticking, they sprinted away. 

When suddenly, the door they had came in wasn’t loosely opened any more. She turned around just as a deafening explosion blared across the building. The loud thuds of wood and metal rang across the air.

Natalia frantically stumbled away, desperately hurling punches at the door till it gave in. She staggered out the door, as another boom echoed. She tugged her foot out. 

She glanced behind her and could see Viktoriya hopelessly yanking her trapped leg out. The debris rained down.

When she woke up she was told she succeeded. But Viktoriya hadn’t made it. General Dreykov remorsefully revealed that the sacrifice wasn’t necessary, was preventable. But that there was loss in a bigger picture. 

It was then that she realized how little she meant to them. And how easily they’d move on. His own daughter


	3. A New Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Natalia became Natasha.
> 
> Content Warning: Blood, Injury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This takes place two years after last chapter, so 2004.
> 
> I tried to wrap what we know of MCU Yelena Belova with the comics. In the first paragraph I reference ‘Black Widow: Deadly Origins’.
> 
> \- Mags

Two years later and she became aware of what’s brainwashing. She no longer believed in serving her country. She only remained because of the paralyzing fear that plagued her every time she considered leaving. She didn’t believe in ‘beautiful demonstration’ of putting ‘trust’ in the system.

After a mission, successful. Because no matter the cost, she completes it. She was staggering home in the raging snow. Heavy black boots thudded as she trudged down the cement street. Dragging her bleeding foot in the powdery snow.

A woman with dark brown hair and a practical black catsuit slowly approaches her. Exhausted and limping, Natalia decided she’d take her out when she arrived. When she started to hear the intense and practiced steps, Natalia turned around. She was met with deep cheek bones and solemn brown eyes. "Get away from me." Natalia coldly muttered.

"I don’t think you want to do that." Replied a deep voice.

"Do what?"

"Reject help, little one."

"You don’t know what I want to do." After she mumbled that, Natalia wobbled unsurely before she collapsed.

She awakened in a warmly lit room. In a bed with white sheets, but beautifully patterned blankets. Her leg was carefully bandaged. She could see flutter on the street through a closed window to her right.

Natalia teetered off the bed onto used wooden flooring. The caramel coloured wooden floor boards creaked as her foot delicately landed.

She wandered down a hallway made of wood the colour of dark chocolate. She rigidly stopped when she heard the scratchy voice of a man "Where did you find her, Melina?"

"We can protect her." The woman, Melina, answered. 

Natalia stepped into the light, ignoring the pain in her leg. 

Over time Melina and Alexei became parent figures. She found them equally reserved at first. But then it came to feel like home, the distant attitude began to feel like a dry sense of humour. 

She was given the name ‘Natasha’ a diminutive of ‘Natalia’, it made it feel even more like family.

She was trudging the icy cement street. There was a girl with blonde hair, the colour of sand mixed with dirt. And blue eyes like a grey sky. The girl was following her a ways back. Natasha turned around and hollered "What do you want?"

The girl’s eyes widened. Natasha marched over to her and repeated, "What do you want, little one."

Natasha ended up dragging her to the home she shared with Melina and Alexei. Her name is Yelena, and they add another to the family.


End file.
